


Troll Relations and Affectation Resulting From Human Interaction: Reported by Dr. Jakob English, PhD

by anotherjadedwriter



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fingering, Interspecies, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Sex Toys, Size Difference, Transmasculine Character, weird au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 20:50:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10369128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherjadedwriter/pseuds/anotherjadedwriter
Summary: Alternate title: Human Biology With Special Considerations, an essay by Emperor Clorad Loulid--Jake is an anthropologist who got dropped on Alternia and got friendly with the Emperor.





	

**Author's Note:**

> believe it or not someone payed me to write my oc and jake lmao

“Captain Marshell, thank you so much for loaning me this young man.” The Emperor purrs, the long lashes on his eyes fluttering, covering the unnatural pink for an instant. A gruff response from the monitor, which you expect nothing less than from your captain. “I will make sure he returns in one piece. Bye-bye.”

The screen clicks off and a delicate claw plucks the headset from his head, mountains of hair shifting as he moved. He’s enormous, grey and pink and black all over, hair down his back almost on the floor and eyes like a giant doe. He’s very pretty, and you’re actually basing your research grant request on the concept that Tyrian-blooded trolls might be genetically predestined to be more pretty or delicate-looking than other blood types, to keep their own genes from being seen as a mutation.

He licks his lips and you realize you’re staring at them, because they’re full and this deep black that makes something twitch in your chest. “Can I call you Jake, or Jakob?” His voice is something between a series of clicks and low, stuttering croons. It’s… nice.

“Jake is fine. That’s what my friends call me!” You smile, and his regality seems to fade as he smirks back at you, lopsided and showing a missing canine. “Thanks for letting me come and visit, by the way. I never imagined we’d actually encounter another intelligent species, and that they would let any of us get to know their culture. I certainly never thought it would be me doing the asking.”

He nods, waving at a waiting maid (he made it very clear they were not servants or slaves) to ask them to take the screen away. “And please bring in some snacks. Thank you.” He waits until the rest of the maids leave, most waving cheerfully, and then turns to face you again, his eyes bright and his pupils dilated. He looks almost animalistic like that, but you’ve seen it a few times since you were first sent here, so you’re more used to it. “I have a question for you, Jake. Are humans all warm blooded?”

“Oh, yes. We all have the same average temperature, and the same blood color. Though our blood does turn a dark purple when it’s deoxygenated.” You nod, noticing him inching closer as you speak. “Are you very cold?”

Clorad chuckles. “Oh, yes. I’m always very cold. I’m supposed to be keyed into the ocean’s temperature so I don’t freeze when swimming.” He creeps a little closer as he speaks, and his knee is touching yours, the soft fabric of his pants (they look like yoga pants) against your skin but not buffering the cold as much as sturdier clothes might. “Though we do warm up sometimes. It does mess with our hormones, though.” He leans his head to the side, what you had originally assumed were gashes and are actually gills fluttering.

“That must be very strange.” You start, shifting closer to him. The soft bend of his spine under the short pink shirt he’s wearing, and the almost-black lumps starting just under his ribs and the gills on his sides and his big pretty eyes all too much for you to ignore too much. You’ve finished your complete interview and will be picked up on the ship again in a couple of days. Maybe you could try to follow his lead. “Do you want to, uh, sn-uh, lean against me?”

Those pink eyes glitter and he nods, slithering up behind you to wrap his arms around your chest and put his chin on your head. You shiver a little at first, because he’s leeching warmth from you, but he’s also purring low in his throat and he’s soft and he has these big hands and he’s very, very pretty and you really, really want him to touch you. His hands rest against your stomach and even so you wonder if you should have brought a play packer, you wonder if he can tell you’re wet, you wonder if he can fuck you.

His hands slip down to your lower stomach and you suck in a sharp breath, forcing your legs to stay apart. His hair falls over you as he bends forward, and it’s as soft as it looks, like well-brushed wool, curling around itself. He smells like saltwater. His lips press against the side of your neck and you shudder, feeling a hint of too-sharp teeth, followed by a freezing swipe of tongue, his hands slide under your shirt and you hiss, lifting your chest because he’s cold but you want so much from him.

“Is this okay?” He purrs, stopping with his hands rested on your waist, skin on skin. “You’re really warm.”

The grit in his voice, the way it falls more to clicks, the way he sounds like he wants you, breaks any professional resolve you held just like that. “Yes. Fuck me. Please.” You manage, letting your head fall back as he moves you too easily and then he’s biting and pressing you into the couch and you’re kicking your shorts off before he even asks.

You’re ready for him to ask, but he doesn’t mention the way that the bulge in your boxers comes off with them. He licks your abdomen, not pushing at your shirt when you don’t pull it off, and you shudder when his tongue dips into your belly button, spreading your legs when he slightly presses them apart. His tongue swirls a little lower, wraps around your cock, and you sigh. He sucks on it, tongue swirling around the head, and you rock your hips up against his face. His fingers move to press against your hole, sliding up to tease you, you assume, and then he’s pressing one in, groaning softly at what must feel molten against his frigid skin.

It would be embarrassing to you, you think, that by the time he has a second and then third finger in you you’re fucking yourself on his hand, if you could bring yourself to think past his tongue on your cock and his fingers pressing right up against your G-spot and your heart pounding in your chest while your face flushes.

And you come with a croon before you can stop it, grinding against his face and pulling at his hair and shuddering. He hums and pushes you through it, fingerfucking you until you stop shaking, and you can’t stop grinning back at his grin. His face is a little wet, and your cock twitches at the sight of it. You keep your legs open and watch as he meticulously licks each finger clean, his too-long tongue sliding between the digits, and you wonder if you happened to pack your strapon, because watching him suck that would be perfection.

You zone out on his tongue and his fingers for long enough that you actually jump when he moves to shove his pants down. The elastic stretches around his thighs easily, but he finishes shoving them off, and you see Tyrian running down his thighs and then you see four bulges that are much too big for him to not be passed out, right? He can’t have that much blood. But he does, they’re all writhing, and you whine because he looks down at you with this want and you could come again just from that.

He slides a hand down his bulge and you watch as the others curl around his leg. You hitch your knees up proper, moving your hand down to jack yourself off a few times before just kind of holding yourself open, which feels gross but earns a somehow pleased growl from him. He lets the tip of his bulge slither over you, the tip flicking against your cock before sliding into you, curling excitedly in the heat. He’s cold, but it feels good, anyway, him slowly feeding length and girth into you, and his bulge curls over and around and against everything deliciously.

You pull your hands back, watching him as he feeds more into you and groaning when he strokes your cock with his free hand, his cheeks flushing. You twitch and shudder and sob when you come, your legs shivering on either side of him, and he groans, pressing forward just a little more. It’s too much.

He hisses, pulling back, and you want to complain. You try to push back, to keep him in you, but you know you can’t take it, and when you manage to look away from his pretty face, you see that he’s not even halfway in yet. You almost suggest your ass, but that would be too much, too. It takes build up to get to that size.

“Sorry.” You breathe, still twitching as he pulls back. “I’m, fuck. I need to repay you. That was good.”

Clorad chuckles. “You can’t take my bulges. It’s fine.” He strokes them idly, looking you over closely. You pull your shirt up and over your head. Almost tell him to take a picture. “You’re really cute. Hold on.” And then he’s walking away, leaving you cooling and limp on his sofa.

The toy he returns with is bigger than anything you’d ever imagined using, on yourself or a partner, but it looks about average when he holds it. “Oh.” You drag yourself up as he settles on his knees, looking down to rub the toy’s head over his nook lips. It looks like a simulated bulge, but instead of ending with neat little tendrils, it ends with a wide, blunt triangle, and it’s a warm shade of green. “Can I watch?”

He sighs as the tip pops into his nook, Tyrian dripping down it’s length, and leans back to start working the first bit into himself. “Sure. Can I lick your nook again?” His nook spreads around the toy easily and you wish you were controlling it. As if reading your thoughts, he pulls it from his nook and stands, holding it out to you. “Here. You can use it on me and I can eat your nook.” His eyes glitter a little and you realize you’re shivering with excitement.

“Okay, yeah! How do you want me? What’s most comfortable?” You’re up on your knees by the time he lays back, his legs open and his hair billowing out behind him. He waves you over, licking his lips, and you nod. “O-okay. Let me just, uh.”

You settle carefully over his face, flushed to your shoulders and hyperaware of his breath on your skin. “Okay.” He breathes, his voice less than a purr, it rolls up your spine and makes you dizzy. “Now, just slowly put the bulge in me. Take your time, but I’ll tell you if it hurts. Push my bulges towards my legs and they’ll stop getting in the way.” He rumbles, and you take an extra moment to feel the softness around his middle.

“Alright.” He pulls you down and you gasp as his lips close around your dick again. You watch his bulges, then push them aside, and like he said they wrap around his thighs. His nook is a vibrant pink and wet and, when you rub your fingers through his folds, he moans softly, so even if it’s for your sake it still makes you feel a little bolder. “Okay.” Your voice shakes because he’s working his tongue into you.

Still, you lean down and drag your tongue over his nook, and he tastes clean. That’s all there is to how he tastes; you’d seen some contemplation about flavors among the crew, but he just tastes clean and cold. He has a clitoris, or something similar, just under his bulges and when you flick it with your finger he jerks upwards. Good. The toy is heavy in your hand and you swipe the head over his folds, let it flick over his clit a few times to make him gasp and chirp. Then, you bend it down to press against his opening, taking longer than he did to press it into him, swiping it over the lips of his nook until he jerks his hips up and pushes his nook up to get the tip in him.

You chuckle a little, still breathy, and start working it into him like he had been, twisting it just a little as you pull it out and pressing in just a little deeper each time, working it into him slowly and surely as he falls back into a rhythm of eating you out, only interrupted by small moans when you get a little overzealous and stuff more into him than you mean to at once. Soon enough, it’s in to the base, and you’re grinding down against his face as you get close again. He’s thrumming, his lips and tongue and nose making you shudder because he’s good at what he’s doing. His nook sucks at the toy when you pull it out halfway and he jolts when you thrust it back into him.

The next thrust has him gripping your thighs, his hips lifting and his mouth falling away while he moans. You smile, fucking him hard and fast, and he chitters, clutching at your thighs and writhing. You lean over against him, planting your arm on his knee, and work his clit with your fingers, earning a desperate, yowling kind of sound and even more desperate mouthwork. Managing not to stutter is hard, but you do it, just moaning against the soft skin of his thigh when he lifts his legs to push back against you. He’s so cool, soft and delicious and your mouth is on his nook before you can think twice about it.

He sobs and comes, his bulges spilling Tyrian cum over the sofa and your shirt, left unfortunately in the splashzone. His nook spasms around the toy, against your mouth, and you lose track of time while you fuck him through it, trailing your tongue around the stretched edge of his nook or just kissing his thigh, until he’s finally whimpering and pulling away. Then, you take the toy back, easing it out of his nook and admiring the puffed lips and the way his legs shiver as they fall to either side.

You’re just about to stand up when he presses his face against you again, working hard and fast and needy to get you off. You set the toy on his stomach and sit back, riding his face because, well, you have no reason not to accept it, not when it feels cold and smooth and perfect, his mouth formed against you like he was made to do this. You trail your hands up your front, playing a little with your nipples before just bracing against the arm and back of the couch, letting your voice get away with you as you accept what he’s giving.

This time, your orgasm washes over you and you’re shaking, breathing in harsh moans while he slowly pulls you through it, his hands wandering up to your chest and over your legs and spreading your ass and it’s good, you let him go on until you’re just shuddering against the back of the sofa, breathing hard and begging him for something.

He delivers it by finishing you off and shuffling you with that uncanny strength to sit on his lap. You hadn’t noticed his bulges retract, but they must have, because now all that proves that you’d fucked him is his swollen nook and his material staining his stomach.

“Wanna nap with me?” He purrs, sleepy and sated, and you wrap your arms around his neck, exhausted. “I’ll feed you in the evening. And if you pail me like that again, I’ll give you a key.”

You laugh, his purr lulling you nearly to sleep even as he was speaking. “Contact your locksmith, Emperor Loilud. An English fuck is worth the palace.”

You fall asleep before the assumed laughter, and only slightly are aware of being moved and cradled by a cool, soft body. You could get used to staying here. Maybe there’s another mission you can convince the captain to wait until to get you.

**Author's Note:**

> I love writing clo but he's such a shitty character ah  
> if you enjoyed this, consider tipping me here: https://ko-fi.com/A781PZJ


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